


Just Fishing

by thisisthefamilybusiness



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Ficlet, Fishing, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Preston Garvey Has A Nice Day, Sports, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, outdoors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 11:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14933643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisthefamilybusiness/pseuds/thisisthefamilybusiness
Summary: “What’s got you so chipper?” Valentine grumbles from his porch as Preston walks by.“It’s my day off.” Preston makes a vague gesture with the fishing pole he’s holding. “And it’s finally hot enough to brave the creek.”





	Just Fishing

**Author's Note:**

> written for buzz of the mr. new vegas fanclub!

It’s finally hot in Sanctuary. Preston feels the heat rising up from the asphalt as soon as he steps out of the shade of his house, and he grins. The sun’s beaming down already, and it’s barely seven-thirty in the morning, if his alarm clock was still running right. 

“Morning,” Preston shouts across the street to Carlota, who’s already out in her garage, running maintenance on her power armor. She gives him a distracted wave, screwdriver still clutched in her hand. Preston laughs. 

“What’s got you so chipper?” Valentine grumbles from his porch as Preston walks by. 

“It’s my day off.” Preston makes a vague gesture with the fishing pole he’s holding. “And it’s finally hot enough to brave the creek.” 

Valentine gives him a mock salute. “Good luck, kid. Let me know if you catch anything other than radiation poisoning.” 

“We’ve got new filters!” They’re one of Carlota and Sturges’ latest projects: a more advanced purification system for the entirety of the Sanctuary creek, starting at the source. It seemed to be working, if the Geiger counter on Carlota’s Pip-Boy was trustworthy. 

Preston wasn’t really expecting to catch much, though. Fishing was all about the experience.

It doesn’t take him long to settle in down by the creek’s banks, barefoot and with his pants rolled up to just below his knees. Preston’s guess was right: it’s finally hot enough that the cold water is actually enjoyable, and they’ve finally done enough riverbank clean-up that he doesn’t have to worry about stray broken glass. 

His first catch is a dud: a small chunk of a tire. But there’s no such thing as a dud, Preston supposes, because catching trash meant that there was that much less trash in the creek. His next two aren’t much better, another tire chunk and an old plastic pipe. 

Preston hums and re-baits his hook anyway. There’s a cold beer waiting for him in the icebox in the community kitchen, his socks don’t have any holes in them for the first time in a long time, and his only worry is if Valentine stole the last of his secret snack cake stash behind the framed flag in the kitchen. 

That’s when he finally gets a real catch, of course: what Preston was always told was a trout but Carlota insists is “definitely not a trout, trout don’t have that many eyes.” It’s a smaller fish, but it’s just enough to fry up for dinner, and Preston couldn’t be more pleased. 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](officialclaricestarling.tumblr.com)


End file.
